Insurrection
by uber-tastic
Summary: Her body desperately wanted to move, to jump into the alleyway, to teach the ignorant mob a real lesson." Nephenee learns of revolt, growing right in her own hometown.


Nephenee sifted through the basket in her arms. It was Market Day at the Ohma town center, and it had been her chore to pick up the groceries her parents didn't grow themselves. It had been this way ever since her triplet brothers had come into existence.

She nodded to herself as she mentally checked the last item off her list and left the village square, humming an old folk tune instinctively. It was a routine she had begun years ago.

The walk to her family's farm was lengthy, and although she used to hate the long trip, she now enjoyed the time she could spend to simply think. Her opinions on every constant in her life had changed drastically since the Mad King's War, especially the distance she travelled home compared to the tiring marches of the war.

"That damned Queen!"

Nephenee's head whipped around to face the direction of the call. She could make out the shadows of a few village youths.

"She's ruining our country!"

The green-haired girl inched toward the angry yells, puzzled. Surely they couldn't be talking about _their_ queen! But… no other country had a queen in power…

"How dare she do these things to us!"

_What things? _The former soldier's mind asked incredulously. She had reached the house nearest the bitter mass, her hand and the front wall and the grocery basket propped between her other hand and her hip.

"You're right. That girl has no right to do any of these evils to her population. It was our blood and sweat that one Daein. Why bestow their rule to Begnion?"

Nephenee's brain whirled with the sound of the new speaker. His voice was stately, refined, and had no hints of the oh-so familiar country twang. An image of a faceless, greasy Begnion noble floated through her mind, and her face scrunched in appropriate disgust.

She glanced around her a few times before assuming a pose of nonchalance, her back leaning against the house as she hoped it seemed as though she had some purpose for being there aside from eavesdropping.

"But we are many, and she is one. We can rise up and tear her down." The smooth voice was giving her chills. "_We_ fought and died for our country, so where are our spoils of war?"

Confusion came first in head - these people, whoever they were, must know that the only prize they needed for defeating Daein was there country back, right?

Anger came next, pulsating through her veins - _they_ fought and died in the war? They didn't know half of the pains of battle, let alone the pain of a comrade dying while in the fray. She and Brom were the only militia members from Ohma, and she knew, more than anything else, this "educated" upper class instigator did not fight. If this strange man had been in battle, of course he would understand how ridiculous his words were.

"We will rid our land of this scourge wearing the crown."

The hand resting on her basket twitched in outrage. Her body desperately wanted to move, to jump into the alleyway, to teach the ignorant mob a real lesson. Yet, she managed to keep her cool, her aggression showing in the form her hand on the basket squeezing the rim.

"Together, we can restart. This time, correctly."

Wicker is one of the many things in the world with little elasticity. The pressure Nephenee applied eventually caused the poor woven container to burst, the straw imbedding itself in her palm. She bit her lip to stop a vocal outburst and her fury ebbed away as the burn in her hand flooded in.

"This Sunday, noon, we will take Crimea by storm!"

The youth's cheering continued even after they merged into the small crowds in the streets. The girl kept her head down, her gazed fixed on her blood mixing with the produce in her basket.

"Ahh… that should do it." It was the sleazy ring leader. "These hicks can be so excitable. Oh, what's this?" The higher class man turned his eyes to the young woman now beside him. "You should really do something about your hand. You're ruining your crops."

Nephenee looked up slightly, enough to still hide her face and be able to study his at the same time. "It ain't that bad. I had tons worse while I was fightin' in the th' army. Y'know, durin' the war t' free Crimea." She pulled her hand from the container she held, halting a wince as the wicker strands released her flesh.

He didn't say anything in response, instead giving her an appraising stare. He kept on watching her, as if looking for a weakness, before nodding almost approvingly and spinning to walk away.

The country girl craned her head up searching for the white armor the man wore. She glared at his back once she found it, memorizing the every twist of the golden trim.

Just three years ago the war had been won, and no one, neither this man nor anyone else, was going to destroy the peace that so many had died for, even if she had to strike him down herself.


End file.
